There's Something About Frank
by SeattleWhovian
Summary: Frank's post-Korea/post-Margaret/post-Looney bin story. He's going to have quite a surprise for his fellow Swamprats! He's back home in Indiana and sees his mother for the first time in two years. Frank combo of movie & TV show character.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One. In the Looney Bin.

From the Journal of Frank Marion Burns, M.D., USA (ret., LTCOL)

08 SEP 1951

Lt. Colonel. Big deal. HE is a Lt. Colonel. Now she's with him, I'm in the looney bin, Louise is divorcing me, and it's all come crashing down on me. Like I care.

13 SEP 1951

Got a letter from Mother today. I told her I'm sure the Army will be done processing my exit papers any day now, and I can return to her and Fort Wayne as soon as possible. She doesn't know about my little episode in Tokyo, thank God. Doesn't know about Louise either, and I'm not telling her. I go from one bitch to another it seems. Mother's my only source of comfort now. No Louise, no HER. I can't even bring myself to write her name. Someone at the 4077th caught wind of US and it made it's way, somehow, to Fort Wayne, the country club, and Louise. Who didn't have a lick of sympathy for me being tossed in here to calm down a little.

Why do I bother?

14 SEP 1951

I miss surgery.

18 SEP 1951

I'm bored.

20 SEP 1951

Mother wrote again. I'm getting concerned for some reason I can't pinpoint. Her writing's harder to read, and she seems to jump willy-nilly from topic to topic, as if her thoughts were straying all the time.

The LB's head shrink came to talk to me today, asked me what I would like to be doing if I wasn't in there. I told him working at an Army hospital doing surgery, like I was trained to do. He had to remind me that I'd been "retired" from the Army. Not a good sign that I could forget THAT. Oh yeah, retired as a Lieutenant Colonel. Whoopie. No rank, no direction, no wife, nobody else, except Mother.

I need to get out of here soon, Mother needs me. I can tell. I need her.

21 SEP 1951

There's a new inmate in the LB today. Older guy, a Colonel the Army is "retiring" like they did to me. He kinda scares me. He just sits, looking out the window, not talking. Being a retired Colonel myself (see? I remembered!) I sat down to chew the fat with him. I know I haven't always had the greatest social skills, but this guy needs a buddy. Even having someone to talk to that doesn't answer back is better than nothing.

It's later. I asked the day-shift shrink what was wrong with the guy. He said he normally wouldn't discuss it, but my being a fellow doctor, he'd allow that. That made me feel great. Sometimes I think they forget around here that I AM an M.D. after all. Maybe it's a sign that I'm improving and close to being let out, I don't know.

Turns out the old guy has Alzheimer's Disease (I think I spelled that right). Wow. I've read about it, but I haven't had much experience with it. Makes me sad, makes me wonder if I could end up like that, in an old drafty Army looney bin, no friends, no family to visit.

I asked the closest shrink on-hand if he had some books in his office I could consult to learn a little more about it. He seemed pleased that I was taking an interest in something medical, and got permission to bring me to the inner sanctum of offices the OTHER M.D.'s use.

25 SEP 1951

The latest information on Alzheimer's that has been discovered since I went to med school is really interesting. I don't know what it is about it, but I'm actually enjoying learning more about it. I think it's because I'm concerned for Mother. She's 82 and once again her latest letter seemed wrong in some way. I wonder if she's coming down with it.

26 SEP 1951

I finally showed Mother's last three letters to the day-shift shrink, asking his opinion of whether he thinks Mother might have AD. He said he wouldn't be able to tell simply from three letters, so we dug out my personal effects and I showed him some of Mother's past letters. I've saved every one of them since being at the 4077th. We looked over several months' worth, and it was obvious from the changes in handwriting, spelling, grammar and other clues that she's got some form of dementia, possibly AD.

27 SEP 1951

Mother's alone now. Michael had to leave back to his job in Philly and can't take care of her any more. Some brother. I don't know why he can't get his firm to relocate him to Fort Wayne.

I know I get excited when it comes to Mother, so I asked the shrink, as calmly as I could, when they thought I'd be released. I needed to be with my mother, she has no one to care for her now. He said he'll arrange a review of my case with the other shrinks tomorrow and hopefully I'll get one of their "exit" interviews.

28 SEP 1951

I'm sick to death with worry for Mother, and anxious as heck for them to let me out of here so I can get to Indiana. I convinced them to let me call Mother, and the day shift shrink, the one that was nice enough to let me read his books, asked if he could listen in on the line. I thought that would be a good idea, so I told him yes. I even told Mother we had another doctor listening in.

She asked, Another doctor? I had to remind her that I'm a doctor too. She asked, You are? Who is this?

Oh my God, I almost lost it right there. I know how I get about Mother, after all.

The other doctor was very nice and patient with both me and Mother. I think he knows I'm pretty attached to her. He motioned with his hands that I needed to calm down, so I wouldn't distress her, so I talked to her as gently as I could. Your son, Frank, I told her. Oh, FRANK! she said. Steady, Dr. Burns, the other doc said to me quietly. Dr. Burns. That's the first time he's called me anything but Frank. Felt great to hear again.

Later.

Evening now. I had that panel review with the OTHER MDs, and I think I made a good impression. I hope.

29 SEP 1951

YIPPY, they're letting me out! My friend the day shift doctor convinced them that I've left off all that happened in Korea, now that I have this other concern to focus on, about Mother and her possibly having Alzheimer's. I think they could identify, having mothers themselves. My doc friend gave me the name of some specialists in Indiana to consult with. I go HOME tomorrow. That sounds so good: HOME. To Indiana. To Mother. Forget Louise, forget the country club. My practice is pretty much gone any way.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two. Home to Indiana and Mother.

"Mother?" Frank called out with excitement, setting his duffel bag down. He felt weird wearing civvies again, but he'd get used to it. Felt kinda nice, actually, wearing blue jeans, sneakers and a short-sleeved sweatshirt. He knew it was a different look for him, but figured it was time for a change, to do something different, to leave all that and HER behind him.

He had something important to focus on: Mother Burns.

"Who is it?" he heard a thin voice call from the parlor.

He ran to the door, ready to sweep his beloved mother up into his arms for that all-important welcome-home hug. He wasn't a big man, but being over six feet tall, he towered over his tiny mother. At least he did last time he saw her two years before. For some reason, he thought she'd look very different.

Frank stopped dead in his tracks at the wide entrance to the parlor. His mother WAS different. She seemed to have shrunk in on herself, hunched as she was in her favorite rocker, watching one of those newfangled "television sets" he'd seen in the city. She had trays propped all around her, covered with old cups, used tissues and other filth. She appeared to have totally forgotten his presence in her home.

As he approached, he scrinched his nose from the smell of urine in the air. Cats, he knew. She had cats. Always did. But Human urine as well.

"Oh, God, Mother," he said gently, coming up behind her.

He touched her thin frail shoulder, softly, so as not to startle her. She jumped in fright, turning wide blue eyes to him, backing away as if he was an intruder.

"What? No! Who are you!" she screeched, reaching for her cane to defend herself to the end against this unknown assailant.

"Mother, Mother! It's me! Frank!" he said, grabbing her hand and holding it down with a firm, gentle pressure. Her eyes stared at him, unknowing, blank. There was no recognition in her for her returning hero from Korea.

Frank wanted to die then and there at that empty look, but cleared his throat to strengthen his resolve. He knew this could happen. Older people with dementia, including Alzheimer's, were known to have episodes of lucidity, then they'd seem to shift into another realm, a world known only to themselves. His Mother appeared to be in such a phase right now.

He'd read in one of the medical books how an AD victim would lose short-term memories, but retain memories of long ago, even back to their toddlerhood. Frank thought maybe his mother would remember nursery songs she'd sing to him and his brother, and that it might snap her out of it, make her come back to the here-and-now.

"Mother, it's me, Frank. Your baby. Remember you'd sing those songs to Mikey and me? Itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout," he started to sing in a light tenor.

"Down came the rain and washed the spider out," she responded automatically.

"Yes, that's the one! You remember!"

They both sang softly together, "Out came the sun and dried up all the rain, and itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again!"

Something seemed to shift in Mrs. Burns, and she shook her head, as if clearing it. She blinked her big blue eyes once, twice, thrice, and suddenly she was "there."

"Frank! When did you get in? Where's Mikey?"

Frank gently took the cane from his mother and put it back in its previous position. He bent down to get the hug he'd ached for those many days, not saying anything.

She reached thin arms up, over his back, breathing in the smell of him.

"Oh, Frank, it IS you! You're really here?"

He wiped the tears that strayed down his cheeks against her light wrap. "Yes, Mother, it's really me. Mikey... Mikey had to go to work."

"Oh, that's nice then."

The condition of the room, of his mother, made Frank move back. He looked around, crinkling his nose again.

"Mother, um... are you okay, dear?" he asked. He pulled an ottoman up to sit down, so he could see her eye-to-eye.

"Certainly, son, why wouldn't I be?"

She seemed to be unaware of the state of her soiled clothes, her chair, the debris and litter all around.

Frank put his head in his hands, and took a deep breath to calm down. The smell of urine, feces (both Human and animal) and rotting food and garbage didn't help. How the hell could Michael have LEFT like this? Did he think she was able to take care of herself all of a sudden? Had she been in one of her lucid phases, was the condition so early on that he thought she'd only had a wee bout of something?

He'd have to have words with his BIG brother very soon. But first he had to tend to his mother's immediate needs.

The admonition from his shrink friend, Calm down!, came to mind.

Be strong, Frank. For ONCE in your life, BE STRONG! he told himself.

It had come to that time every adult child dreaded: somewhere along the way, the parent caring for the child had turned into the child caring for the parent. Michael had done his part, such as it was. Now Frank, the youngest, was home and it was time to do his.

He could help her as his son, but he could not be her doctor. He didn't know enough about Geriatrics and all that entailed, and it was too personal to deal with her as doctor to patient. He dug out the address book where he'd written the information about specialists.

He was torn: Do I call one now, or do I get Mother somewhere clean, quiet and safe, so she can rest and watch her television set?

He ached for a nurse, someone who could help with the basic needs his mother so obviously required. He'd lost touch with the nurses he'd employed at his now-defunct practice. He was fairly sure they wouldn't have helped him any way, unless he paid them an outrageous hourly wage. He suspected they didn't like him too much. Just like most people didn't.

Frank stood and leaned over his mother once more, putting his hands under her, lifting her up. Her thin weak legs did some of the work, but not much. He wanted to cry when he truly felt how skinny and frail she was.

"Mother, I'm going to help you, okay? We need to get you cleaned up. I know of a lovely hotel downtown where you and I can stay tonight and catch up on old times, and we can hire someone to come clean the house and take care of your kitties. You can watch your programs and we'll sip tea and have some of those little Scottish butter cookies you love so much, how does that sound?"

He talked slowly and carefully as he led her to her room and proceeded to play nurse himself. He knew mentioning the television, tea and cookies would keep her distracted from the fact that her son was giving her a sponge bath and putting clean dry clothes on her.

He kept a running monologue up, bringing up the Bridge club, playing in the park when he and Michael were little, and other pleasant memories from his childhood. Granted, he didn't have a lot, what with the "father" he'd had, but he had enough to keep her distracted from what her doctor-son was doing.

Frank knew his mother had enough pride that if she was TRULY cognizant of her surroundings, she would've been shoo'ing him out of her bedroom.

He soon had her in one of her light summer dresses, a soft wrap over her shoulders and her walking shoes. He threw a few more things into a little suitcase while she sat on her bed, fiddling with the edge of her blanket.

When he turned to her, she seemed to have that "gone" look to her once more. He gently guided her to the door, shutting it behind him and locking it with the key he'd had all those months and months in the Army. She was settled into his rental car, and they were off for the nice hotel, tea and cookies he'd promised her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three. Michael Returns.

Without preamble or the most cursory of greetings, Frank was screaming at his older brother, Fort Wayne to Philadelphia.

"Michael, how DARE YOU leave Mother like that? What the heck were you thinking?"

"Frank? Is that you? Where are you?" his brother replied, startled to hear his little brother screeching over the phone. Michael Burns was in a conference, and had been told by his secretary that it was a most urgent phone call. He figured it was the overseas office with news about the big merger he and his team had had in the works for weeks.

"I'm at the HOSPITAL with YOUR MOTHER, that's where!"

"WHAT? What's wrong with Momma?"

When the others in the big meeting heard the mention of Mrs. Burns, they turned away, occupying themselves in other ways so as not to appear to be eavesdropping. Michael turned away from them, looking out the big window that faced downtown Philadelphia.

He heard his brother take a deep shuddering breath.

"Well, since I'M a doctor and YOU'RE not, I'll put it in laymen's terms. Malnutrition. Bedsores. Dehydration. Lice. Urinary tract infection. You want the rest? MALNUTRITION, Michael! What were you FEEDING her, or NOT feeding her?"

Oh, God, Michael thought. He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath himself.

"Frank," he answered as calmly as he could. "Frank, I TRIED. I tried my hardest. I tried to get her to eat and she'd pick at her food, and I found out she was hiding it when I wasn't looking. Two weeks it took before I could tell from the smell."

He looked nervously at the people in the room, who were studiously ignoring him. Or they appeared to be at least.

He whispered, "Look, Frank, I'm in an important meeting. Can I talk to you about this later? I'm expecting a really important phone call from our overseas office."

No reply.

"Frank? Baby brother?"

Michael had to hold the phone away from his ear when his brother screeched, "GET YOUR ASS BACK TO INDIANA OR I SWEAR TO ALMIGHTY GOD I'LL COME UP THERE AND KICK IT BACK HERE FOR YOU!"

Click.

All Michael Burns could do after that declaration and fervent vow was stare at the now-silent phone in his hand, too stunned to move. Was that FRANK? he wondered. What in the heck did Korea DO to his brother, who'd never had the gumption to stand up to him before? EVER? Now threats of bodily harm?

Michael very carefully placed the receiver back in its cradle, and turned a shy glance at everyone. He hoped to God nobody had heard that, but he suspected they had. A few people had their heads down, trying to stifle grins. They knew how Mr. Michael Burns was.

He cleared his throat and stood, gathering his notes and placing them quickly into his attache. He hated to admit to himself, but Frank's voice and promise to come kick his ass had shaken him inside. Maybe his baby brother had finally grown up and was thinking about somebody else for a change?

"Um, yes, people. Family emergency. I must return to Indiana immediately. That was my younger brother, Dr. Burns."

It irked him to add the "doctor" to his little brother's name, but he figured it would impress everyone to know he had a doctor in his family.

The ones who'd been hiding grins turned serious when the doctor was mentioned. Oh, it really IS something after all!

Michael turned to them all before he left. "Please consult with Mr. Miller about the merger, when we get the call from overseas. I'll notify my secretary on how to contact me."

When Michael Burns stepped off the plane in Fort Wayne, his younger, but taller, brother punched him in the shoulder, hard.

"Ow, FRANK! What is WITH you? Screaming at me over the phone? HITTING me when I haven't seen you in what, seven years?"

Frank grabbed his brother by the arm and dragged him away from the crowd.

"You're lucky I didn't punch you in the face, Mikey! C'mon."

Michael followed behind Frank to the parking lot, not saying a word. He looked at his brother, who was just as thin as before, but lean, wiry. He rubbed his shoulder where the punch had landed, surprised at his brother's strength. What in the hell had happened in Korea to make him like this?

Frank remained silent until his brother finally spoke up.

"Where're we going?" he asked when he saw they weren't heading to their mother's house, the house they'd both grown up in.

"To the nursing home, that's where," Frank said curtly.

"Jesus."

"Don't blaspheme," Frank admonished.

"Oh, shut up, Frank. You call me out of the blue, you screech at me while I was in an important meeting, you hit me in the arm and you tell me not to blaspheme. Jesus, you're a pip," Michael said, feeling more like himself in the big brother role once again.

Frank yanked the car to the side of the road and turned to face his brother. Michael actually recoiled, almost frightened by his brother's visage and fierce look.

Frank pointed to him, his finger shaking. "Okay, this is it, Mikey. We have it out, right here, right now. 'Cause you know what the Lord said. If any one of you has a problem with your brother, then resolve it. Granted, we aren't going to the altar, we're going to our MOTHER'S, who we're obligated to honor and obey. AND CARE FOR! Now you'd better explain, and make it good, how Mother got into that condition, or like I said, I swear by God I am going to KICK YOUR ASS!"

Michael could only lean against the far door, away from Frank's threatening hand, and stare. He took a breath and started explaining. He told Frank how Mrs. Burns had changed, almost overnight, and how he thought it was just a bug going around.

As the explanation continued, Frank calmed down somewhat, nodding his head. It was as he suspected: she'd had more bouts of lucidity, and Michael thought she was "getting better." When he found her up and fixing them breakfast, tending to her plants and kitties, fussing with the vacuum cleaner, he thought she was all right once more. And told her he should return to Philadelphia.

"She said, 'That's fine, Michael, I'll be all right. Frank will get his discharge papers any day now, and be here soon. You go on back to work.' And that was it. She'd been hiding the food I found during those phases when she seemed kind of out of it. I thought she'd stopped once I found it and scolded her about it. Really, Frank, I'll swear on your Bible if you've got it on you. I honestly thought she was okay."

Frank didn't answer, so Michael tried something he was sure would work.

"I'm not a doctor like you, Frank, I'm not trained to look for signs like that."

Frank nodded his head, for all the world appearing like a wizened sage. It was refreshing to hear his brother admit that FRANK knew something he did not.

"All right, Mikey, I guess I understand. You couldn't know. I was learning more about Alzheimer's when I was in the... discharge facility the Army sent me to for a short time. One of the docs there let me read up on it in his medical books. There have been a lot of new developments since I went to med school."

Frank stuck his hand out, and Michael took it, smiling.

"Have we mended our ways, then, as the Lord commanded?"

"Yes, sir, we have. Let's go visit Mother now. I told her you were coming, but I'm not entirely sure she'll remember."

"She's that bad?" Michael asked, turning to face the road again when Frank pulled back into traffic.

"She's that bad," Frank said quietly.


End file.
